


Forgiveness is a Virtue (Amongst the Divine)

by DreamedWordsDreamed



Category: Something Dark and Holy Series - Emily A. Duncan, wicked saints
Genre: Blood Magic, Character conflict, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingering, Gentle Love, Gods, Heretics, Riding, Sexual Tension, Soft burn, Spoilers to end of Wicked Saints, Vaginal Sex, magical protection, mention of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 23:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamedWordsDreamed/pseuds/DreamedWordsDreamed
Summary: After the revealing of Malachiasz’s true identity, Nadya is more than a little frustrated. In fact, she might even give Veceslav a run for his money. Malachiasz is determined to ease her anger, or at least deflect it.And Nadya refuses to believe that hanging him over the edge of the tower was a bit much.
Relationships: Malachiasz Czechowitz/Nadezhda Lapteva
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Forgiveness is a Virtue (Amongst the Divine)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> Thank you for coming to my first fic here on AO3!  
Please let me know what you think, any thoughts or suggestions are welcome!
> 
> Cheers,  
Cass
> 
> P.S.  
This work was inspired by Emily A. Duncan's Wicked Saints book, and all characters belong to her. I just had some fun with what she created.

Nadezhda Lapteva may be unused to the absence of her Gods, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Or that they weren’t going to come rushing back into her head when she was thinking rather deeply about the Vulture. The heretic. The Marzenya damned blood-mage.

How dare he lie to her. Not that she shouldn’t have expected it, he was the definition of heresy- and now it was revealed that he was a royal heretic. From the tips of his bloodied boots to the ends of his elegant iron claws. The raindrop blue eyes that flashed to onyx were partially hidden by his wild raven black hair at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before they returned to her face. 

“A shame he doesn’t have a vulture’s baldness,” she thought sourly as she shook out the memory of her fingers twined in that mane. After the revelation of his identity by the moth witch Pelagya, she’d been in shock. She’d known that kissing him had been a mistake when she’d known he was a blood mage, but to know that he led the cult of twisted mages that had picked the flesh of clerics like her for a century? That was too much. 

A cruel smile twisted her thin lips as she remembered the fear flicker across his face when she’d held him out into the open air. Even though he’d said the fall wouldn’t have killed him, she was positive that it would’ve hurt. Nadezhda was in the mood to hurt. Especially after he’d pressed her against the door back into the castle, heat coursing through her at the touch of his lips ghosting over her neck, and then dragging heatedly across her mouth. 

She stumbled as she heard the soft sounds of desire behind a door she was currently storming past. As blood flushed to the tips of her ears, she recognized the breathly gasps and smothered moans. Though complete devotion to the Pantheon was required, some of the servants and traders who traveled to the monastery occasionally found a night’s company in the arms of a resident. She remembered vividly when Anna had slipped off with a sandy haired hostler who’d been delivering, only to discover them in the stables. Anna’s robe had been rucked up around her waist, and the boy’s trousers had been discarded to show a bare and muscled ass being gripped intently by Anna’s strong hand. Their movements had been so smooth, so purposeful as they’d kissed, rocked, and melted into each other. Nadya had lingered for a moment, heat pooling in her belly, before fleeing back to the kitchens and her tower of potatoes before she was discovered. 

When Anna had slipped into the kitchens that night, rosy cheeked and giggly- Nadya had demanded details while they peeled. Anna had instantly gushed about Ivan, a local boy evidently, and even given her younger friend a detailed schooling on the intimacies of intercourse. Nadya had nearly carved her thumb a few times, who knew that Anna had sought such information from her own body? And the knowledge that she could bring about the pleasures of sex alone...that was something to explore. 

As Nadya unintentionally tarried outside the closed door, listening to the coupling on the other side- she felt that warmth pool in her belly again, the beginnings of an ache forming at the apex of her thighs. An errant thought of Malachiasz moving how Ivan had with Anna spurred her towards her rooms. “Damn him,” she cursed as she reached the ornately carved doors into her ruined room, the poisonous flowers and bird motif only raising her ire as she flung them open. Slamming the doors behind her, she wrenched her bloodstained kokoshnik from her head and tossed the once beautiful thing onto the slashed lounge. The dark pearls were spattered with blood (her blood), and several of the strings dangled loose and short of their original length. 

Next she furiously unlaced her bloodied bodice, hissing as it tugged on her bandages- the hundreds of tiny cuts across her body making themselves known. After some more painful work, she stood in the middle of her ravaged room wrapped in bandages, a thin chemise, and a warm wooly robe. The robe was nothing special, a burgundy floor length piece with embroidery of small black flowers and feathers along the cuffs and collar. It reminded her of the spring thaw in Kalyazin, when the red clay of the earth dyed the thawing snows the color of blood and small crocus burst free of Marzenya’s frozen hold. Nadya fingered the beautiful needlework as she thought of her home, the mountains of Kalyazin seeming so very far away from this smoggy, swampy city. 

As she considered her journey to Grazyk, she wandered to the expansive window in her bed chamber. The now cracked glass must have cost a fortune, but that hadn’t stopped whom ever had ransacked her room. It looked out on the countryside, the afternoon light glimmering across the hundreds of lakes dotting a sea of green. As she squinted, she could see tiny farmers plodding through rice fields and trudging home towards small huts in the distance. As she saw two figures embrace from afar, tumbling into a pond in their exuberance, a smile cracked across her lips. “At least that much is the same between Kalyazin and Tranavia,” she thought, images of monks grappling in the snow, Kostya greeting her after a hermitage in the forest, and Anna nearly toppling Ivan down the seven-thousand stairs jumping to mind. 

As her mind touched the thought of Anna and Ivan again, she groaned. The heat had flushed through her again at the merest thought of their coupling, and with it brought the more recent memory of Malachiasz’s body on hers. Shuddering at the heat of the thought, she ran her fingers lightly across her lips, still tender from the ferocity of his mouth. He had kissed her like a man starved, the press of his lean form against her urgent and iron strong. She could almost feel the prick of his iron claws through her bodice, shuddering at the gentleness of those powerful hands. Even when she’d nearly thrown him from the balcony, after she’d punched him hard in the face, he was still so gentle with her. There had been a tremor in his body when she’d pulled him to her, a shudder of what? Relief, terror, desire? 

Another shiver coursed through her at the thought. Why did it have to be him, the broken monstrous boy, who kindled this flame in her. She knew so little of him, and what she did know seemed to be a lie. “The Black Vulture,” she mused, unconsciously reaching for her prayer beads to ask advice of the gods, but gripping only empty air. She swore quietly, the damned vultures must have taken them from her when she was taken. Yet another question, how involved was Malachiasz with the current movements of the Vultures? Had he orchesrated her kidnapping and near murder? After all, he’d been the one to find her, sweeping her to the witch for care. The press of his body as he’d carried her up the staircase cast another wave of warmth through her, startling her. 

Nadya was debating retiring to her bed to finish this thought once and for all when there was a knock at her door. Seizing her voryen, she steadied her stance as the door opened, revealing Prince Serefin. She nearly sagged with relief, had it been Malachiasz it would have been a rough choice between stabbing him and pressing him into a door. 

“Lady Josefina, may I come in?” he queried, barely leaning his scarred face into the room, quickly taking in her drawn dagger. She sighed, lowering the dagger and nodding ascent. He carefully crept in the rest of the way, his guard Ostiya trailing behind and shutting the door with a click. Her sharp eye quickly surveyed the room, catching on the bloodied kokoshnik and lingering on Nadya’s state of undress. Despite the darkness of their earlier conversation, and the obvious threat to the Prince’s life- a sly smile cut across her pale face.  
“Your highness,” Nadya murmured with a bobbed curtsy, “to what do I owe this visit?”

Serefin scoffed at her formality, waving it off like smoke with a broad hand, “Please- call me Serefin. We all know I’ve a mark on my back, and that our mutual friend is more than he seems.” He sauntered to the lounge and made himself a home among the rent plush velvet cushions, appraising her with his good eye. It occurred to Nadya that he and Ostiya looked a matching set, their scars mirroring each other. 

Nadya nodded, sinking onto a poof across from him and sheithing her voryen. “You haven’t answered me yet,” she stated, an eyebrow inching up as her courtly mask cracked. 

A broad grin split Serefin’s face as he nodded, every inch the charming prince, no sign of the brilliant blood mage hiding beneath. “Well, my lady, it seems as though you may know the Black Vulture more...intimately than the rest of us,” he paused, his eyes caught on the embroidered feathers of her coat. “Perhaps you could tell me how you met?”

Nadya shifted uncomfortably, heat flushing through her again at the implication in his words. “I cannot tell his truth from his lies, Serefin. We met in the mountains around Laszcz w, when I’d been seperated from my party,” the lie rolled off her tong easily enough. It was almost true, she had met him in the mountains of Kalyazin after Serefin had driven her from her monastery home. 

The prince seemed to sense her deception, but did not comment. Instead, he sighed heavily and lolled his head to look up at Ostiya. She caught his eye and shrugged, the picture of petulant friendship.Tasting the words in her mouth, she nearly swallowed them before letting them escape, “Serefin, do you know the way to the Cathedral? If I find him there, I might be able to learn something.” The heat was traveling back up her neck to her ears, but her cheeks felt blessedly cool. 

He started slightly at the request, obviously blindsided, “Of course I do, but-” he carded a hand through dark hair, “that is no place for humans.” He looked meaningfully at her as she steeled herself, silently agreeing with him.

“Yes, but how else can we gain anything from this?” she whispered, knuckles white in the sleeves of her robe. Ostiya and Serefin stared intently at her, long moments passing under their scrutiny bringing a chill determination into her heated blood. 

“Very well,” replied the prince as he stood, several torn cushions slipping to the floor in his wake. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he breathed, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“As do I,” she shuddered, standing and moving to a rack of warm winter coats to pull one down. She settled on a dust colored fur lined coat, realizing as she pulled it on that it resembled a military jacket. A Tranavian military jacket, sharply cut with silver braiding and tiny beads where epaulets would have been. It felt like Malachiasz’s worn coat, which nearly had her hanging it back up- but the prince was already at the door. As she buttoned and belted the coat, Ostiya explained the path to the Cathedral, making their excuses that they would not attend her.  
With a bow and a wink, they were gone, leaving Nadya outside her ruined rooms with her thoughts. How exactly was she going to get any information out of Malachiasz? She began to walk as she considered, what exactly did she want to know? Obviously he was a practised liar, and his monstrous magic made him strong against any truth spell she might cast. It felt foolish to want to trust him again, but she felt it all the same. For a brief moment, the idea of seducing the truth out of him flitted across her mind, but the memory of his hands and hot mouth quickly cast that from her mind. He obviously had some experience, and the tables could be so easily turned...but her mind caught at it, thinking that even if his rainwater eyes were untruthful, his body was not. 

The fire in her blood stoked at the thought of their shared heat, speeding her heart and quickening her step. Breathing carefully, she entered the courtyard which lead to the Cathedral of the Carrion throne...and spotted Malachiasz Czechowitz. 

He leaned against the towering black stonework of the Cathedral, its broken figures and splintered finery only serving to enhance the wildness in his eyes. He stared at her from beneath a bird’s nest of raven black hair “Or perhaps vulture,” she thought bitterly. Gold beads were threaded through it now, and he had changed his shabby coat and bloodstained clothes for an elegant black robe and silk tunic, tied with an ornate belt of woven gold thread. His pale skin was almost white against his tattoos, pinched with thought as she approached. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d still come,” he murmured, pushing himself off of the stone face. His eyes were searching, hands coming up to touch and then dropping away from her when she did not reply. 

Nadya was hurt, his betrayal of her trust stinging as much as her wounds as she stared up into those water colored eyes. “What else could I do?” She whispered, a brokenness there that she cursed herself for. He had the decency to flinch at that, but then smiled wryly. He took her by the wrist, and pulled her into the towering monument of his heresy. 

Her breath caught as they entered the cavernous room, the blackened walls spoke of fire, the twisted carvings of magic, and the continued absence of the gods of wickedness. He lived in this monument to man’s desecration of the gods, reveled in it even. And then there were the bones.

Bones laid into the floor, stacked into sculptures along the walls, hanging from the ceiling in grotesque chandeliers dripping with a century of wax. As he pulled her along, he absently skipped a pattern over several skeletons, as though it were simply a child’s game of hopscotch. The alcoves rustled with movement as she noticed other Vultures bowing, eating, and going about their evening. She shuddered at their presence, frightened at the closeness of her enemies. Would her bones decorate this damned place come the dawn? Malachiasz seemed to sense her uneasiness and quickly pulled her through towards the knave, “My rooms are this way,” he murmured. 

They were approaching an ornate wooden door when a Vulture stepped from the shadows to bar their path, one Nadya recognized. “Ah, Rosa,” Malachiasz purred, his eyes flashing onyx as she stared them down. 

Rosa’s head tilted to the side in a distinctly avian manner as she hissed, “So good to have you back, your Eminence. Had you been gone much longer, I would’ve been forced to take up your duties…” The obvious threat quickened Nadya’s heart, but Malachiasz didn’t blink. 

In a flash of movement, Rosa was raising a long clawed hand to strike- but froze when Malachiasz’s claw drew a single drop of blood from beneath her chin. He smiled icily as he forced her to her toes to prevent greater injury, “Now Rosa, it is a good thing I returned then, isn’t it? Couldn’t have your claws getting into every throne in Tranavia… Now, shouldn’t you be reporting my return to the King? And nothing beyond that,” his words snapped with the power of command, and Rosa scowled furiously as she stormed away- wiping blood from her fair round face. With a toothy smile that was as much monster as predator, Malachiasz swept her beyond the great wooden door, letting it slam behind them.  
Inside the room was paneled in dark wood, rich plush rugs covering the expanse of floor. Every corner was messily stacked with books, dog-earred with cracking bindings, scraps of parchment jutted from many, and more than a few tea cups lay scattered across them. Between the piles of books nestled a lounge, several plush chairs around a fireplace, and two doors. One was cracked open to reveal what looked like a bedroom, the other firmly closed with voices ringing from behind it. 

She felt Malachiasz relax as he barred the door, sauntering to the closed door and opening it to reveal Rashid and Parijahan arguing colorfully. Nadya’s eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of her friends alive and well, she’d feared the worst when her rooms had been ransacked with no sign of either Akolan. Parijahan instantly broke off her quip and lunged for her, seizing her tightly in her arms and tossing Malachiasz a scowl. Laughing through the firm embrace, Nadya saw Malachiasz roll his eyes and flop face first onto the lounge in a distinctly undignified way. Her eyes kept flickering to him as Rashid also hugged her tightly, both of the Akolans asking after her welfare when she winced at all the attention.  
This led to her explaining her wounds, and Parijahan having a good shout at Malachiasz for letting it happen and for not bringing her here sooner. “As if he didn’t know that this is the most defensible place in the whole palace,” Parijahan groused as she helped Nadya out of her coat and onto the lounge opposite Malachiasz, placing a well aimed kick to his shin as she did so. 

Once they were all settled around the fire, Nadya dared to ask the question she dreaded, “So, did both you know?” 

A chill the fire couldn’t quite warm settled as they squirmed, and then nodded. Parijahan spoke first as she saw Nadya’s fury rising, “He wasn’t honest with us either! He just bluffs too hard, and after a while I put the pieces together. That ruffled his feathers a bit, thinks he’s so clever.” Her warm brown hands twisted in her lap as she met Nadya’s eyes, “I swear we would’ve told you, but Malachiasz…” She drifted off as the aforementioned boy pushed his face out of a particularly soft cushion, and scowled at her. “What? It’s the truth. We owe her that.”

“I think we’re all tired. Rashid and I will sleep here, you two can have the bedroom,” he growled, pushing himself off the lounge and tugging on his tunic in a way that seemed almost...guilty. 

Nadya stared at him in silence, wondering at the audacity of him. Here he was, caught in his lies, and he still wouldn’t apologize. “So, you don’t have anything to say to me?” she growled, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she rose to stare up into his pale eyes. He towered over her, it nearly wrenched her neck to look him in the eye, but she wasn’t losing this battle. 

Malachiasz’s eyes tightened as he scowled, he rumpled black hair gathered around his face and neck like storm clouds. “I...you never would have trusted me this far. We never could have convinced you to join us, and you barely joined us as it is!” By the end of his speech, color was blossoming in his pale cheeks, and his nose was nearly touching hers. 

Nadya’s face was icy fury as Rashid and Parijahan crept out of the room, her rich brown eyes devoid of warmth as she roared, “I spared you! I asked the gods to protect you! I knew I should never have trusted a broken, monstrous blood mage! Why should I have even thought there could be something gentle in you? Something that wanted to do good with your power? But no, this is all a game to you, your Eminence.” She hissed the last words with such venom that he stumbled back a pace, landing heavily on the lounge again. “To think that I- I thought that you..” her anger faltered as his gentleness by the roadside returned to her, the jagged broken pieces of his warm smile, the softness of his true laughter, and of the trust she’d willingly placed in him by the use of her blood. Tears brimmed her eyes and she forced them back, intent not to cry in front of this lying broken boy. 

The soft curl of fingers around her wrist broke her revery, and she looked down into his rain-water eyes. “I...didn’t mean to grow to care about you,” his words were a bare whisper, “My entire life has been one survival, one plan to the next- and you… You looked at me, a monster, like I could be something more. More than the monster I am, and have made myself. I will always be what I am, but my feelings for you...those are real too, Nadya.” 

Nadya shivered, his sharp Tranavian accent making her name into a weapon, a barb to be fired rather than the gentle rolling way her own Kalyazin accent sounded over the syllables. His hold on her wrist tightened slightly, pulling her into his lap as his other hand rested on her waist. She could feel his warm breath on her ear as he whispered, “And I think this is more complicated than either of us ever imagined..” he tucked a lock of her spelled crimson hair behind her ear, tracing the line of her jaw after he did so. 

Nadya was not ready for this, she’d been ready for more lies, more hedging, not a confusing confession in front of that roaring fire. “I...I…” her words failed as his lips trailed over her neck, barely touching the gooseflesh rising over it. “It...it does feel real,” she heard his breath hitch as she threaded her fingers through his mane. “And I have no idea what you want, which might be the most frightening thing of all,” she murmured into his hair, hearing the beads in his hair click as they shifted. 

He murmured in agreement, and a razor sharp smile crossed his lips as he leaned to whisper breathily against the shell of her ear, “We could always find out something we both want.”

Nadya shuddered fully against him, feeling the heat of him, the danger, and for the moment- pulling away. Leaning back to breathe as blood flushed to her cheeks, she saw his eyes were slightly glassy as his arms loosely caged her in. “Nadya…” he breathed, every syllable heresy.  
“I...I need to sleep,” she gasped, wrenching herself from his hold, and stumbling to her feet. “I lost a lot of blood, and I- I need to sleep.” She knew she was being a damned coward, knew she was running away from this decision, but as the firelight flickered across Malachiasz- glittering in the beads, catching on his regal nose and spilling across his collar bone to glitter on the necklaces and jeweled chains draped there. Yet another mark of his station that was new to her. 

He watched her with heated eyes as she stumbled to the bedroom, and closed the door behind her- finding Parijahan in bed reading. The bed was a massive four poster affair with heavy hangings and plush looking pillows, with books spilling off dressers and out of corners as in the other room. As she looked up from her book, Parijahan raised an eyebrow at Nadya’s flushed face and tousled looking countenance. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked, barely contained mirth bubbling into her tone. There was no doubt that she and Rashid had more bets running about the nature of she and Malachaisz’s relationship. 

With a deep sigh and a groan of defeat, Nadya flopped onto the other side of the bed- immediately regretting the movement as she felt a few cuts open. She raised her right hand and fluttered it in a shooing way at Parijahan, “I’m in such trouble,” came her muffled reply.

“Oh girl, you are. You are,” chuckled Parijahan, closing her book and helping to shuffle Nadya under the heavy blankets. “And by the look on your face, there is no going back until this is out of your system,” she murmured more gently, combing Nadya’s hair into a loose braid for sleep.

“Thank you...Parijahan…” she whispered before plummeting into an exhausted sleep, feeling her friends’ gentle fingers in her hair, and hearing Malachiasz’s heated voice in her ear. 

Her dreams were heated things at first, flickers of hands on bodies, crushing kisses, and slick sounds as she moved through them, but they slowly twisted into dark memories and visions of vultures picking her apart while twisted creatures covered in eyes ripped apart her friends, her country, again, and again, and again...And the rain, it was raining blood.

She became dimly aware of someone shaking her, and she thrashed at the hands with her nails as she screamed. Her throat hurt, had the vultures picked it apart too?

“Nadezdha!” Her eyes snapped open at her name, her mouth open in a scream as she saw Parijahan and Malachaisz in front of her, shaking her. Her scream cut off, and she began to sob uncontrollably. The gods had abandoned her to be pulled apart by monsters, were silent to her calls, and the only ones to rescue her were a stranger and a heretic. 

“What happened? You were screaming…” rasped Malachiasz, his hair was a disaster, and a wide neck tunic spilled off his shoulder in a portrait of hurried dressing. One of his large hands clasped her shoulder, the other cupping her cheek. Parijahan was pale and shaking, scratches on her arms that matched the pink under Nadya’s nails. Still she reached out and smoothed Nadya’s hair, her trembling fingers gentle as they carded through now snow white hair. 

Nadya started at the spill of her natural hair color over her shoulder, she must’ve broken the spell while she slept, so deep was her desperation. Her eyes flicker to Parijahan, “Your hands…” she whispered, taking one and kissing it gently and tears dripped from her eyes.  
Parijahan’s shoulders relaxed, and a shaky smile rose to her lips, “It’s alright, I’m going to go take care of this.” She slipped out of the bed and then out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. 

Turning her chocolate eyes on Malachiasz, she took him in again. He looked shaken and worry pinched his mage tattoos, had he been that worried about her? “Are you alright?” she queried, reaching out for his pale face. 

He started at her touch, surprise in his eyes as the ice in them thawed away at the gentleness in her voice. Taking her hand in his and kissing her palm softly, he rasped, “You were screaming, I thought...I thought maybe I’d truly lost you this time,” there was a heat to his voice she’d heard earlier, and it warmed her to hear it now. 

She curled her hand around the curve of his jaw as she pulled him closer, “A cruel dream, but just a dream,” she lied. That dream had the waft of prophecy about it, and she didn’t like it one bit. Gods and demons played in her thoughts as she ghosted her lips across his, “But I don’t want to talk about that.” She’d made her decision, before he took anything else from her, before the gods chattered in her head again, she wanted him. Wanted to take him in, breathe him deep, and drown- if only for tonight. 

“You’re wounds…you’ve opened them,” he whispered against her mouth, not quite kissing her. 

She smiled slyly as she whispered, “Why don’t you take a look?” And then she shrugged out of her robe, letting it slip down her shoulders to pool around her hips. This left her in her thin white chemise, and she could see her nipples beginning to pebble through the fabric. 

He swallowed thickly, his large hands weaving into her snow white hair, “Are you sure?” his voice was breathy, and hot against her face as his gaze seared into her. Her courage faltering, heat rushed to her cheeks as she nodded. His true warm smile traced his lips before he kissed her, not hurried and hungry like the others, but gentle and careful as if she might break. Slowly, his fingers ran through her snowy locks and settled on her shoulders, catching the hem of her chemise. Achingly slowly, he pushed the garment off her shoulders and down her arms, allowing it to pool at her hips. Other than the bandages winding around her, she was bare to him. His breath left him in a rush as he took her in his arms and kissed her again, this time letting more of his desire trickle into the kiss, catching her lip between his teeth as he shifted fully onto the bed. 

Nadya was buzzing, the heat of his kiss and gentleness of his touch stoking the fire that had been slowly burning her since that first kiss. As his careful fingers swept over her back and carefully began unwinding her bandages, she sighed and wove her fingers into his tumbling hair to pull their mouth together again. Gone were the thoughts of betrayal and gods, of death and the future, for now- there was only this room. This bed, and the two of them. 

As the linen bandages slowly came away, they revealed mostly healed creamy white skin riddled with tiny scars. The small mounds of her breasts became completely bare to Malachiasz, and he gently caressed them as the bandages fell away. His lips began to travel the length of her neck, nipping occasionally as she tugged at his long hair and arched into his touches. After leaving a particularly harsh bite, she moaned as her head lolled back, “Malachiasz…” That sound was enough for him to redouble his efforts on the other side of her neck, marking her with soft purple bruises as he sucked, making her arch and squirm up against him. She mirrored his movements then, brushing away his hanging hair to savage his neck with kisses, biting as often as she laved with her tongue, bringing deep growls from his chest as she nipped at his collarbone.

As her calloused hands drifted over his collarbone, his heart stuttered in his chest, allowing him to truly see that this was happening. That this woman wanted him as he wanted her, she wanted him with all his lies, all his brokenness. She wanted him. 

He struggled out of the tunic, pulling it over his head clumsily in his sudden eagerness- pulling her against him for the first time. They both sighed deeply as skin met skin, eager hands tracing unexplored skin as their mouths fought for dominance. Tongues teased heatedly as breaths were stolen and hands wandered. Nadya found that Malachiasz’s nipples were exceptionally sensitive, while he discovered that she loved the scrape of his nails down her back. Soft keening noises left her as the heat in her belly began to pool between her legs, leaving her dripping with desire as she panted into Malachiasz’s neck. 

Her hands drifted down his chest after tweaking a nipple gently, kissing the soft skin as she reached the waistband of his breeches. Slowly, she met his eyes as her hands drifted lower and felt the swell of his erection. His eyes drifted closed for a moment as she stilled, feeling the heft of him, and then snapped open when she squeezed with a grin. 

With a growl, he had her pinned beneath him, kissing her powerfully as he rocked their still clothed arousals together. She gasped at his reaction, moaning into the kiss as his rocking pressed the hardness of his erection against her damp folds. His hands were everywhere, one moment knotted in her hair, and the next fluttering down her torso and brushing over her sensitive nipples and tracing over her new scars. 

Dragging her fingers down his back, she bucked up against him powerfully, using his momentary surprise to flip their position, pinning him beneath her as his inky black hair spilled over the pillows, gold beads flashing in the candle light. His gaze was feverish as he stared up at her, reverently whispering, “Nadya…”

Shivering as his name tumbled across his lips, she rocked their hips together, grinding down as they sighed and moaned together, building a rhythm as her hands trailed down his chest to his waistband again. Catching his heated gaze, she caught her lip between her teeth as she whispered, “Are you sure?”

A wild shiver racked Malachiasz’s body as that wild, gentle smile lit his lips, and he rasped, “Please, Nadya, please...yes, please.” His hands were already joining hers in the unlacing of his breeches, their fingers clumsy in their eagerness. He shuddered again powerfully as the laces parted and his painfully hard cock was freed. Nadya shivered herself as it sprang free of his breeches, bobbing and twitching as she tugged his breeches off and he kicked them away. They both paused then, panting with excitement, arousal, and nerves. 

Slowly, Malachaisz sat up, propping himself against the headboard and reaching out for her with palms up. Nadya’s heart squeezed at the sight of this beautiful, monstrous, broken boy reaching for her. She desperately wanted him, wanted to save him. 

Carefully, she shuffled forward, momentary shyness bringing a fresh blush to her cheeks as she kneeled just short of his twitching erection. Her shift was still draping around her hips, and she shivered as he caught the hem between his fingers and began to pull it over her head gently. Slowly, oh so slowly, the soft fabric was peeled away from her sweating body and dropped to pool on the floor. For a moment, they just stared at each other, taking in the sights with soft smiles, hungry eyes, and quiet laughter. Then, they reached. 

Their mouths came together languidly for a moment, and then the hunger pulsed through them and it became a battle of passion, stolen breath, and sliding tongues. As Nadya’s hand crept down his chest, Malachaisz dragged his nails down her back on a mission. As he reached her muscular ass, he squeezed powerfully and she gasped into his mouth, arching into his chest. As his rough hands then trailed down the inside of her thighs, she shivered as he reached the slick arousal dripping down her thighs. He groaned deeply, catching her ear between his teeth as he groaned, “Nadya...gods, you’re so wet…” He cursed soundly at the sounds that fell from her lips when he ran a finger across her folds, pausing over her throbbing clit. 

Nadya was gasping as he touched her, so gentlely he traced her entrance with one tattooed finger while his thumb played havoc with the bundle of nerves at her clit. “Gods, Malachiasz..!” She whined, rocking into his fingers as he touched her, the sensation of someone else’s fingers exploring her sex a wonder. She’d touched herself many times, but when someone else’s fingers were exploring her...she felt her belly tighten as his thumb rubbed intent circles into her clit and he slid one finger inside of her. Now she was moaning loudly with punched out little gasps of his name, all the while tangling her fingers into his hair and kissing him soundly. 

Malachaisz was thoroughly enjoying himself, teasing Nadya closer to orgasm with his fingers and twitching as she moaned his name and rocked onto him. She was so wet, relaxed and open to his touch, and enjoying it. He trailed kisses down her neck and over her breasts as he added another finger, encouraging her to louder cries. Carefully, he lowered her back onto the bed as his mouth drew ever lower, trailing over her hips until he reached the wirey curls of her sex. She was gasping and shuddering beneath him as her legs fell open to him, and he gave her clit a slow lick. Watching her arch off the bed almost made him religious. 

“Gods, Malachaisz..! Ah, ah, ah!” She gasped and moaned as he added another finger, reaching to find the place that would make her- she gasped and cried, “There! There! Oh yes, please, ah!” Well, that was definitely the place. He smirked as he repeated drilled into her g-spot, sucking hard on her clit as she gasped and arched. Then he felt her walls begin to flutter, those beautifully strong muscles begin to tighten as she approached orgasm. 

“Come for me Nadya, come for me Nadezdha Lapteva,” he growled against her, lapping at her clit and pistoning hard and fasting into her with his fingers curling. She was nearly sobbing with pleasure at it pulsed through her, knotting her fingers in his hair and yanking as she came with a scream of his name. Her clit throbbed powerfully as her entire body clenched around him, panting as giddy pleasure bubbled up through her. “Gods…” she thought, “that- that was worth some heresy.”

Malachiasz grinned wildly as she lay panting limply, and slowly extracted his fingers with a slick noise. She moaned softly and her eyes fluttered open to see him carefully licking his fingers clean of her, and then wiping his mouth on the sheets. She shuddered at the sight, heat flaring in her veins anew. Leaning over her, his hair draped around their faces like a curtain as he stared smugly into her eyes. “Good?” he queried, a smirk dancing across his lips.

Still half out of breath, Nadya had the sense to know when she was being teased, and compromised by grasping his dripping erection as she whispered, “It was alright.” He instantly curled in on himself as she squeezed, moaning loudly into her ear. Giving him an experimental stroke, she found him throbbing, thick, and sticky with precome. She shivered with excitement as she slowly dragged her hand up and down, gently tugging his hair until she could kiss his mouth again. The control he’d had up to this point seemed to crumble with each pass of her hand around him, leaving him shuddering, moaning, and whispering her name. 

“Sit up for me?” she murmured in his ear, tugging gently on a jeweled hoop for emphasis. He obeyed eagerly, sitting back against the headboard, and sighing as she hovered over him. She paused for a moment in her ministrations, and asked, “Do you have protection?” He laughed softly, and nodded. He scrambled for bit of parchment, and before she could blink, had bitten his thumb and pressed it to the scratched piece of paper. She felt the rush of his heretical magic settle over them both, and shivered at the tingling it left in her nerves. 

“It prevents conception,” he murmured by way of explanation, sucking on his thumb as he met her eyes. She nodded, a hooded look in her eyes as she felt his magic around her. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him, “thank you.” And then stroked him firmly, shuffling to align her entrance and his erection. His hand fluttered to her hips, lips caressing her neck as she slowly, oh so slowly lowered herself onto his girth. They moaned long and low as the head of his cock slipped inside of her, and then at the stretch to take in the rest of him. Once she bottomed out, she hummed at the fullness of him for a moment, kissing him languidly before she gripped his shoulders and began to move. 

They rocked together for some time, her gasping at the new angles of sensation, him moaning at the sensations of their movement and the curiosity of her hands. Slowly, their pace increased until he was pistoning up into her as she rubbed her clit, bringing her to orgasm once more, this time squeezing his cock tightly, bringing him tumbling along after her as he came deep inside of her with a cry, then softly whispering, “Nadya…”

Slowly, they spiraled down from their high, Malachiasz brushing Nadya’s snowy hair from her face, her fingers carefully memorizing him as his lips softly trailed her skin. Gently, she pulled off of him on shaking knees, whining at the loss of him and the trickle of come that slid from her at the movement. 

“That…” she panted, “was fantastic.” She kissed him again then, warm and soft and full of feeling. 

Malachaisz smiled genuinely at that, kissing her softly and gathering her to him as sweat cooled on his body, murmuring softly, “Yes, it was. You were fantastic...you’re so beautiful, Nadezdha.” She hummed softly as she combed her fingers through his unruly black hair, listening to the quiet as they cooled down and admired each others bodies. 

Then they heard it, “You owe me 100 fucking Kopeks, Rashid.” 

And they burst out laughing.


End file.
